


All The Little Things That Matter

by Emme2589



Series: Just Call And I'll Be There [12]
Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: American Sign Language, Angst, Childhood Trauma, Depression, Friendship, Gender Confusion, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kissing, M/M, Mentioned Childhood Neglect, Nonbinary Character, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Religious Discussion, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Selectively Mute Henry Stickmin, Special BROvert Ops Ending | SBO (Henry Stickmin), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans Character, but only right at the end, charles is a living saint, henry doesnt deserve anything ive put him through, henry was in a cult, nobody here is explicitly religous but some characters have a religious background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28022175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emme2589/pseuds/Emme2589
Summary: Charles is so good at making Henry fall in love with him, just by doing little things that mean so much.But one event stands out.
Relationships: Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin, Dave Panpa/Rupert Price
Series: Just Call And I'll Be There [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011435
Comments: 13
Kudos: 85





	All The Little Things That Matter

Henry loved a lot of things about Charles. From his brazen get-up-and-go attitude to that smile that split the length of his face to his need to fill the silence with anything, whether it be singing/humming, comments about how nice it was to feel the breeze on your neck after a long day indoors, ridiculous jokes that made the usually-quiet ex-convict laugh until his stomach hurt. Charles was charming in every sense of the word, and Henry thought every day that he loved Charles more than he had ever thought he could love anyone. He always thought he'd reached a new ceiling where his love couldn't get any deeper.

Yet somehow, Henry kept finding more and more reasons to love him.

For example, Charles had asked Henry about his selective mutism. He noticed that the more Henry opened up and healed from his past trauma, the less he spoke in the presence of big crowds of people. Henry had explained that it was because he was more comfortable in himself, and he knew now that if he didn't want to talk/couldn't talk, he really didn't have to. For him, it was _liberating_ to stay quiet. Moving his body came naturally to him, too. In fact, when he was a kid, he always wanted to be a dancer. Thus, he was most comfortable using sign when he needed to communicate, rather than using his voice. He just couldn't do that usually because most people didn't know sign well enough to understand.

A day after this conversation, Henry found a few boxed sets of dvds spread over the coffee table, which taught everything from Beginner to Advanced ASL. He also frequently found Charles reading books on the topic or watching online video tutorials while attempting to copy the signs on screen, though he usually did it a big clumsily because he was used to watching Henry sign instead of trying to sign himself. The first time Henry saw how far Charles was willing to go to learn everything, it brought tears to his eyes. It had been a long time since he was able to sign at his preferred pace, using all the complex signs he wanted to be able to use to express himself.

So, later that day, Henry signed faster, and he used more signs than he usually would. Charles would usually interject several times because there were so many signs he didn't know, but now he was nodding along, adding to the conversation occasionally as he sported a wide, understanding smile. In a whole span of thirty minutes, there was only one sign that Charles had to ask about, and it was only because it was something vulgar that wouldn't be taught in any professional class. It got a good laugh out of him, though, once it was explained.

Henry was so touched, he actually started bawling his eyes out. Charles freaked out, afraid he had done something wrong, but Henry just kissed him square on the lips, which needed no translation. In Charles' eyes, it wasn't a big deal, but it meant the whole world to Henry.

Another example was when Henry could speak just fine, but was upset for a different reason. His self-esteem was rising overtime, but he still felt like something was off. He tilted his head as he looked at himself in the mirror. Was this him? Was this "Henry"? Something just didn't feel quite right, and he had no idea what it was. He'd always felt something like this his whole life, but he didn't understand it, or why it was worse on some days compared to others.

Then, he turned to the side, and something clicked.

He sat on the bed as he called Charles into the room. He was conflicted, and he wanted a second opinion. Charles knelt in front of him as he broke the news; "I don't know if I'm a boy." He asked him to elaborate, and Henry responded that sometimes he felt wrong looking in the mirror, or using the name "Henry". A strict gender role had been assigned to him at a young age, and he knew he hated _that,_ but he didn't think it bothered him for a reason other than the obvious, _"But why can't I play with the dollhouse too, Mom?"_

"It bothers me when Galeforce calls us both 'boys'." was Henry's explanation, "I'm fine using he/him, and my name isn't, like, masculine enough to really bother me, especially when _you_ shorten it to 'Hen'. I just don't like being explicitly referred to as male."

Charles had taken his hands, looked him right in the eye, and said very seriously, "Does something need to change?"

Not, "What do you mean?" not, "Are you sure?" not, "Why do you feel this way?"

_"Does something need to change?"_

Charles hadn't realized it, but the wording made all the difference. Charles wasn't questioning how Henry felt about his identity. He didn't need an explanation. He didn't need Henry to defend himself. He didn't even need to ask any further questions on the topic itself. What he had asked instead was essentially, "I may not know exactly what you're feeling, but I respect it, and I don't want to say anything that might make you upset. Do I need to change my language to make you more comfortable?"

Of course, in this case, Charles understood. He understood completely. He was trans too, so he knew the pain of being misgendered, but of course, that didn't mean he would have responded any differently if that wasn't the case.

Ultimately, Henry had decided not to change his name. It was disconnected enough from the role he was assigned that he really only associated it with the people he had around him now, who weren't forcing anything on him _(his parents had almost always called him "son" or "boy" rather than his actual name, which bothered him way more than having a name typically given to men)._ Likewise, his old pronouns didn't bother him much either. He didn't feel like other pronouns fit him any better, so remaining the same just made sense.

However, Charles had been with him when he asked the general to stop calling them "boys", and to his unending relief and gratitude, Galeforce had switched to "soldiers" instead, which he used for most other groups on base anyway. Alternatively, he sometimes referred to them as "young 'uns" to be more endearing, as that's why he'd used "boys" in the first place, and he had also replaced "son" with "kiddo". Henry had smiled so much that day, it made his face hurt, and from then on, Charles was the first to correct people when they accidentally used words that were too gender-specific when referring to Henry.

It was like Charles just... _accidentally_ did things that made Henry fall even deeper in love with him. It was unreal.

However, this event had to take the cake. Pun not intended.

Henry could almost feel it in his bones. His heart grew somber as memories came back slowly. Memories of loneliness. Memories of sad kids, little gifts, wishes of a happy day in little more than saddened empathy. Parents who looked at him in pity, telling their kids, "Remember to be extra nice to Henry, today."

He didn't want to say he never appreciated the gestures, but it was all he could do not to cry. It was such a silly little thing. Something that should only bother you if you're a young child, but it had been so ingrained in him to accept disappointment, to hold back his heartache when he heard excited cheers from his friends as they exclaimed, "When's the party, Henry!?"

He didn't think he seemed that out of it, but inevitably, Charles noticed.

"Hey, General."

"Hey there, kiddo."

Charles greeted his superior out of respect for his position, but in reality, their dynamic was closer to father and son rather than general and soldier, which is why he usually found himself here when he needed advice on something personal _(when he wasn't at home, at least)._

"Henry's been really depressed recently. I tried to ask him about it, but he just smiled and said that he was fine, but he seemed really sad. Do you know anything about what's going on?"

The general was quiet for a moment as he seemed to ponder something, "Well, according to Henry's file, his birthday is in less than a week."

Charles stumbled backwards, almost knocking over a chair in the process, "His _birthday?"_

"I don't know if it means anything, but it's the only reason I can think of for why he'd be acting oddly."

"Wait, why wouldn't he tell me if it was his birthday?"

"I dunno. He is an elusive character. Sometimes, his motives confuse me." Galeforce chuckled at that, "Maybe he has bad memories associated with it. Wouldn't be the first time."

Charles felt a rock settle in the pit of his stomach. If Henry had been on the run as long as he said he had, then he probably never had a proper birthday party. The thought made him tear up a bit. Birthdays were a huge deal in the Calvin family, as they were a celebration of growing up and making new memories with the people you love. It was inconceivable to him that something like that, something so basic as the celebration of accomplishment in childhood, could be taken away.

Charles recalled his favorite birthday he ever had. It was when he was turning 13. He had just recently figured out that he was not a she, but a he, and he had a bit of anxiety over whether his family would remember and be accepting.

He remembered closing his eyes in fear, a jab going through his chest when he imagined all his previous birthday cakes with his deadname on them, but when prompted to open his eyes, he saw it; "Happy Birthday, Charles!" His chosen name. It struck him that it felt so right, like he was finally trying on clothes that fit. The name had been his grandfather's when he was still alive, and Charles' mom had wanted to name her child after her deceased father if she ever had a son.

Charles' father smiled at him as his shocked gaze flicked up to him, and what he said next would be burned into his memory forever.

"What? Surprised?" he'd said in a teasing tone, "I have no daughter, because I have a wonderful son, and I love him just the same."

Charles had cried that day, then laughed at his father's follow-up comment about needing to come up with more son-related dad puns. Nobody slipped on his new name and pronouns even once. Only the littlest cousins needed an explanation, but though they didn't quite get it, they tried to be nice. It was so much better than Charles thought it would be, and he wasn't ashamed to admit that there were many _many_ tears on his part throughout the entire party.

He wanted to give that joy to Henry. As he thought, a plan started forming in his head, and a slow smile spread across his face.

"General..." he said a bit deviously, "I have an idea..."

***

The days leading up to his birthday were _torturous._ As Henry tried to go through his normal routine, he found tears blurring his vision more than once. These memories were so bad around this time of year. He just needed to power through it. He didn't want to make a big deal out of it. It really shouldn't bother him so much.

It didn't help that Charles was acting oddly, whispering to his friends when Henry was in earshot. The buzz around Charles' friends and then his _own_ friends spread until it was surrounding him. Was everyone on base planning something? It made him feel even worse. They were probably getting hyped over something he didn't know about, maybe even someone else's birthday.

By the time the day was upon him, Henry felt physically heavy. Charles was already up, excitedly whispering into his phone as he distractedly dressed. He didn't even notice that his shirt was on backwards. Henry sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, but then he didn't move. It was almost 10 am, which was pretty late for him.

"Alright! You're the best, Roop!"

Rupert's voice came very clearly over the phone, _"I told ya te stop callin' me that, ya bloody wanker! Yer annoying as hell!"_

He didn't sound particularly upset, so Charles just laughed, "Whatever. See you in a few minutes."

He hung up as Henry averted his gaze.

"Henry?" Charles knelt beside the bed, a hand on Henry's knee, "Are you okay?"

Henry couldn't smile. The memories were flooding back now. His friends would always run right up to him and give him little things. Dirty cards made of glue and construction paper. Rocks that sparkled in the sunlight. One even gave him a frog, though it quickly escaped. He received so many hugs and "Happy birthday!"s. It soothed his pain at least a little bit. He would try to hide the gifts he was given, but his parents always found them. He could never stop being a disappointment, could he? He could never just let it go! He could never stop this from hurting so much! He could _never-!_

"Henry?"

Henry was sharply broken from the memories, letting out an involuntary whimper as he apathetically let the tears fall into his lap.

He shakily lifted his hands, "Please." he signed, lacking his usual gusto, "Just leave me alone today."

"Huh? Ah, shoot! I can't do that. I have something to show you."

That got Henry to look up. Charles let a small smile grace his features. It wasn't his usual big wide smile, but it still made him look so handsome.

"Please, Hen. You gotta trust me."

Henry shook his head, "I really can't today. I'm sorry. I just can't."

Signing "I'm sorry." was second nature to him. He could sign it in his sleep.

"Henry." Charles said more insistently, "You need to come with me. I promise. It'll be worth your time."

Henry weakly pushed him before righting his hands again, "Please, just let me stay here. I can't do this today. Does it really have to be today?"

Charles pushed himself up from the floor to kiss Henry's cheek, then his jaw, then his lips. Henry gratefully leaned into the kiss. It soothed him, though not by much. Regardless, he was grateful.

"Henry." Charles said it like he was barely holding back an exciting secret, "I swear. This will be worth your time. I'll even carry you if you want. If you don't like it, I'll bring you back here, and I'll give you so many hugs!"

Well, that sounded nice at least.

"Fine." Henry lifted his arms to encircle Charles, and he swiftly picked him up bridal-style.

"Awesome! Okay, hold on!"

Henry buried his face in the crook of Charles' neck as he felt him descend the metal staircase, his eyes screwed tightly shut.

Charles set him on his feet, but he didn't open his eyes.

"Henry."

Henry hummed, but he didn't look.

"Heeenryyyyyyy..."

Henry shook his head. Why did he agree to this? This hurt. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Hey Henry you know it sure would be nice if you opened your eeeeeyes!"

So why couldn't he? Why was he afraid to?

He signed, "Can't. Scared."

"Don't be scared, Henry! I promise!" Charles sounded so excited, but why? "Are you really gonna let all this go to waste?"

Without thinking, Henry said, "What?" as his eyes flew open.

The mess hall was mostly empty aside from a few plastic tables that had been pushed together. A bunch of his friends on base as well as a few people he'd met off base were gathered around a huge pile of wrapped presents, as well as a massive cake with a sloppy, "Happy Birthday, Henry!" written on top in blue frosting. A banner stretched between two poles above the tables bore the same message, but in big letters written in marker.

Rupert fell over in the silence, a confetti popper cracking over his head as he hit the pile of presents and they came tumbling down over him.

"Aw fuck!" Rupert gingerly picked each of them up, "I can't believe this! I'm such a fuckin' idiot! Hope nothin's broken!"

Dave laughed as he helped him straighten the pile of presents, Quentin putting an arm over the cake to protect it from any possible projectiles.

Henry was frozen in ice-cold shock.

"Hen?" Charles took his shoulder, "Hey, earth to Henry. You okay?"

Henry looked at him, then back at the party. It was unclear what was going on in his head aside from obvious surprise.

Until he suddenly burst into tears.

"Whaa-!? Henry!?" Charles took his hand, "Hey, what's up!? Talk to me!"

Henry wrapped both arms around Charles' neck as he kissed his lips. He poured as much passion as he could into the kiss, all his love and gratitude that was overwhelming him to no end. No tongue, though. Not with people watching.

Henry finally broke away, completely blind from the tears. His voice was hoarse, but he still felt he could use it now, "Charles, how did you know it was my birthday?"

Charles wiped the tears away with his thumbs, "The general told me. I noticed how sad you were, and so I asked if he knew anything, and he mentioned that it was your birthday soon. I really wanted to make this day special for you, since you seemed so sad."

_"Oh my god. Charles."_ Henry sobbed, _"In my family, parties were seen as sinful distractions. Their sheltered idea of a party was only related to those weird college house parties with LSD and date rape drugs, so I wasn't allowed to throw parties for any reason. I had to watch all my friends have their own birthday parties while I got nothing. My friends tried to give me gifts, but my parents always threw them out because they didn't want me to go to hell."_

Charles was horrified, "What!? Are you kidding me!? Wait, didn't your family still have holidays and stuff?"

"Well..." Henry had calmed somewhat by now, "We did have Thanksgiving and Christmas, but we called them family gatherings rather than parties, and Easter was always a big deal where we praised Jesus and shit and had a huge feast to celebrate the resurrection. Birthdays were seen as selfish, though. Nothing more than a worldly distraction invented by heathens and heretics. Jesus Christ, it seems so childish to get so upset about it, but I _hate_ my birthday because of how everyone seemed to have something that I didn't."

"No!"

Henry snapped his gaze up at Charles' high-pitched tone, his worry making him raise his voice as his hands shook on Henry's shoulders, squeezing the fabric of his hoodie in both fists.

"That's not childish at all! Are you telling me that in the previous twenty eight years, you've never had a birthday in your whole life!? That's horrible! Birthdays are so important! They're markers of progress! They're celebrations of growing up and being alive and having people who love you in your life! They're celebrations of _you!_ Of course you were always upset! If I never had a birthday while all my friends did year after year, I'd be depressed too!"

Henry was...well, he was frozen in shock again. He was astounded.

"I remember, it was one of my birthdays where I came out to my whole family." Charles' voice had dropped to a more reasonable volume by now, "It was when I officially stopped being 'deadname' and started being Charles. When I went from she to he. I was so scared, but everyone accepted me. It's a day that means _everything_ to me. To think that you were robbed of something so important is just...I can't even comprehend it!"

Henry said nothing as he swept his gaze over the soldiers in the room, smiling at him in patience and compassion.

"That's not Christianity." Charles continued, "Why would God create this whole world and fill it with wonderful things if he didn't want us to enjoy them? Why would he give us families and friends and opportunities and ambition if he wanted us to just sit around and do nothing but pray? In my family, we believe that Jesus Christ died so that we could be happy, so taking that away is not only beyond cruel, it's basically saying that Christ died in vain."

Henry gave Charles a huge hug, his face buried in his shoulder.

"I'm going to make every birthday of yours the best birthday ever. We're going to make up for those lost years." Charles laughed, "And hey. If we do end up going to hell, at least we'll do it together, yeah?"

Henry snorted, and in an instant, his joyful sobbing switched to laughing.

He stepped back, waving his hand to let the group know he was about to sign. He brought his right hand to his face, touching his mouth with his fingertips before bringing his arm out, palm facing up. Then, he brought both hands up with his fingers together like he was pinching salt between them.

It meant, "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, Henry!" Charles guided him to the cake, "Anyway, who has the lighter? Ellie?"

Ellie winked as she lit all the candles on the cake, and Henry started crying again as the soldiers sang happy birthday off-key. Time slowed for him as he soaked in the appearance of the cake. He never wanted to forget this moment for as long as he lived. As the song wrapped up, he shut his eyes, willing the tears to still.

"Now make a wish! But don't say it out loud!"

Henry smiled at how excited Charles sounded, "I don't need to wish. I already have everything."

"Just make a wish, man." Charles huffed, "Just wish for something dumb! Wish for something you could easily have right now! You're supposed to wish at this part! And then you're supposed to blow the candles out quickly before the wax melts!"

So, Henry wished with all his might before his eyes flew open and he blew the candles out all in one breath. He jumped up and down in giddiness before taking his phone out to snap a picture of the cake, his friends cheering around him.

"Oh! Good idea!" Charles pointed his phone camera at Henry.

Henry covered his face, "No! No pictures!"

"Come on! I don't have any pictures of you on my phone! It's only fair, right? You've got a ton of pictures of me!"

"Yeah, but..." Henry flushed red.

"You don't have to, but it would be nice to have pictures of my boyfriend."

Henry peeked out over his arms. Charles' murky hazel eyes were big and sparkly as he smiled softly. How was this grown man actually so good at puppy dog eyes!?

Henry deflated, "Fine."

"Yes!" Charles switched to the front-facing camera as he shouldered up next to Henry, "Smile!"

Henry forced his eyes to stay on the camera and not the phone screen as he let himself smile. The picture didn't come out too bad, though he was annoyed that he looked so obviously like he'd been crying. At least he didn't look sad.

Charles stared at the picture he'd taken, "Aw! Hen, you look so cute!"

"I do not!" he said indignantly, though he was laughing.

"It's true! Look how happy you are! And your eyes are all sparkly! You're so gorgeous!"

Henry blushed fiercely at the compliment, quickly signing, "Thank you." again.

"Anyway, birthday kid always gets the first piece!" Charles used a big knife to cut the cake, which was one of those big rectangular sheet cakes, handing the first piece to Henry on a plate.

Henry took the candle out of his slice and licked the frosting off before picking up a fork and taking his first bite. His eyes flew wide open, and he set the plate down to sign, "Strawberry with vanilla frosting?"

"Yeah, man. You said it was your favorite, right?" Charles quickly passed more slices to everyone else, "Is it okay?"

Henry just smiled and nodded as he took another bite, savoring every detail of the moment so he would never _ever_ forget anything about this. The worst day of the year that became the best day of his life.

Henry opened his eyes when he felt Charles pushing something against his lips. It was a whole strawberry. There had been a few on top of the cake as decoration. Henry swallowed before taking the strawberry in his mouth and biting it off its stem. It was sweeter and less juicy than a normal strawberry, so something was probably done to it to make it more suitable as a cake decoration. Still delicious though. He wasn't complaining about that.

"Charles, yer doin' the thing again." Rupert rolled his eyes, "If you two start sloshin' spit, I'm outta here."

Charles and Henry both turned beet red.

"Hey! That was one time!" Charles pointed at him, "Feeding a strawberry to your boyfriend is perfectly innocent!"

"You're one to talk, Rupert." Faith said, who was one of Henry's civilian friends, "Don't you and Dave make out in the hallways while you're both on shift?"

Now Rupert and Dave were beet red, and Charles laughed while Dave hid his head in his arms as he lay over the table. Henry smiled coyly as he took another bite of cake. It tasted even better with the real strawberry.

Of course, he couldn't keep his attention off those presents. There were a lot of them. He was so curious. Was it really all for him? He tried to hold himself back, feeling slimy for wanting them so badly.

Charles must have picked up on his unease, because he sat Henry down on the bench and arranged the presents in front of him, "Don't be shy, Hen. We all deserve nice things sometimes, and we were happy to splurge for your first ever birthday party!"

Henry reached for the biggest box first. It was from Faith. It was the exact size and shape of a clothing box, which excited him. Faith knew how much he loved comfy stuff. He hesitated on the wrapping, but after some reckless encouragement from the boys at the table, he tore the wrapping off as they cheered. He pushed the lid off the box, and inside was something very soft.

He lifted it to the light. It was a baby blue pajama shirt. Underneath it was a matching pair of baby blue pajama pants. Also included in the box was a whole array of clothing, from thick sweatpants and basketball shorts to huge turtleneck sweaters and flowy cardigans. Most of them were in blue, but some were emerald green or a dark burgundy color. A few were in classic grey and black, too. Right at the bottom of the box was a whole set of knitted fleece socks. They all had jewel patterns on them, which made him smile.

Henry rubbed the pajama shirt up against his cheek, "Thanks, Faith."

"Mhm. I thought you'd like them."

The next gift was from Dave. It was a pretty small box, so Henry was intrigued to say the least. Opening up the box, Henry's face broke out in a huge smile. It was a bejeweled wrist watch, with sparkly gems around the face and shiny silver hands. Henry held the watch up to his ear, and he listened to the steady _tick tick tick._

"You like it?" Dave said, "White sapphires and stainless steel. I know you have a thing for stuff that sparkles."

Henry held the watch up to the light, and the sapphires reflected rainbows from the cafeteria lights, "Thanks, Dave! It's beautiful!"

The next box wasn't labelled. When Henry opened it up, he laughed. It was a gadget that could shoot clusters of bombs through walls. It didn't need a label. Henry knew it was from Turtle. After that was a box messily wrapped in red paper, which was from Quentin. Inside was a pair of metallic shoes that could magnetically stick to surfaces. He tried them on, and they were a little tight until he loosened the laces, but he was glad they were unlikely to fall off. This continued as he kept unwrapping gifts. He received pencils and paints, a thick blank sketchbook, three different cookbooks, a pair of wireless earbuds, and even a few novels, from dystopias to sci-fi thrillers to cheesy rom coms.

The second to last gift was from Ellie. She gave him a thumbs up as he tore the wrapping off, and inside was an advanced lockpicking set. Each tool inside was made of solid steel, so they were unlikely to break inside locks. Henry gave her a nod, and she nodded back. At the end of the day, the two of them really were just fellow thieves.

Henry saved Charles' gift for last. He was patient enough to save the best for last, but now his curiosity was killing him. It was a long box with green wrapping paper, and he took his time opening it, feeling like this gift was too sacred to tear open recklessly.

Once the paper was off, he could see the picture on the box, as well as the words that described it. Henry gingerly peeled the tape back as he looked inside.

It was a telescope.

"D'you like it?" Charles put his hand over Henry's as it rested on the table, "I searched everywhere online to make sure I had the right one. It was a little pricy, but nothing crazy. I figured you'd want to see those stars you love so much up close."

Henry's fingertips grazed the telescope, made of hard plastic, metal, and glass. It came with a stand, and a few different lenses. Henry knew this one, too. It was a more recent version of the telescope he dreamed of having as a kid.

"Is it what you wanted? I can get a different one if-!"

Without a word, Henry turned to kiss him, and Charles hummed into his mouth.

"I love it." Henry's voice was hushed, "I love it. I love you. Thank you. It's wonderful. Thank you. I love you."

"You're welcome!" Charles rested his forehead on Henry's, "Hey, if you're ever sad in the future, you can tell me. Even if I can't help, I don't want you to suffer alone."

"I know. It just felt dumb."

"It's not dumb if it's upsetting you." Charles kissed his nose, "Please. You're important to me. I know you'd do the same for me."

Henry rested his head on Charles' shoulder, "Yeah. I would."

Charles was an incredible person. He cared, and he put in the effort to make things work, but Henry ultimately loved him so much because he _understood._ People like Galeforce didn't get why Henry was uncomfortable being referred to as a boy, but they still complied with Henry's wishes out of respect. Charles wasn't quite like that, and not just because Charles himself knew the pain of being misgendered. Even on matters where Charles hadn't been through it before, like Henry's difficulty talking and preferring sign, Charles still _got_ it. It was unreal how a simple explanation was enough to make him understand completely. Charles' hyperempathy surely got him hurt sometimes, but Henry's heart soared thinking about just how much he loved him for it. He was dizzy sometimes when he recalled how Charles didn't ask questions, didn't ask for clarification, he just _knew._

It was almost as if...the two of them were compatible.

Henry couldn't stop giggling to himself as the party wrapped up and everyone helped him carry his presents back up to the apartment he shared with Charles. It was late at night by the time the two of them were in bed, facing each other.

"Charles..." Henry kissed him, "I... _I want..."_

He wanted to be closer. His heart was crying out, trying to escape to find Charles' heart, which he could feel was beating hard against his chest as they pressed together.

_"I love you."_ Henry's voice wavered, teetering on the edge of flickering out, _"I need you."_

Charles' hands wandered underneath Henry's shirt, and Henry nodded weakly as he held Charles' shoulders to tug him closer, biting his lip as he grazed each of his scars, then the button on the front of his pants as he reached lower...and lower... _and lower..._

And somehow, in the hazy mess that followed, Henry couldn't bring himself to tell him to stop.

***

**Author's Note:**

> I still refuse to write smut, so just use your imagination. I know plenty of you are more than capable.
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr! marshemillow.tumblr.com


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